Drifting
by the3littlewords
Summary: There was very little Arabella cared about in life. She muddled through with only her writing, her cousin Sean, and the adrenaline rush she got out of driving just a little too fast. When circumstances brought all three of those things together in Tokyo, one man turns her world completely on it's head and she finds there's a whole lot more to live for than she initially thought...


Okay guys, you may hate me for this but I'm changing a few thing about cannon fast and furious, for the purpose of this story Gisele and Han were never a couple… I know, I know, boo hiss I know some of you love Gisele but this is fanfiction, I was never her hugest fan (don't get me wrong I liked her okay enough but Han is mine, lol ;)) and she died sooooo, yeah I just couldn't bear the idea of Han losing the love of his life therefore she wasn't so he didn't. Anyway they were still really close meaning Han was still wrecked by her death, especially since it was caused in a way in the name of saving him, and he still moved to Tokyo to get away from the memories of it all- which was obvious since this is set in Tokyo drift lol- though the reason for their extreme closeness is that she was his best friend, he saw her as his sister, the only person that truly understood him at times and he loved her in that platonic, familial way that entailed. Also I know he's a bit older but I have Han as being 24 in this. Anyway, I think that's enough on that the rest you will figure out as you read, I'll even delve into this whole Han Gisele thing a bit further as the story goes on, I hope you enjoy!

**IMPORTANT: **this is a guide to what certain words Sean and other characters will sometimes use due to their accents as well as other slang

**Ya/yew: **you

**Ya'd/Yew'd: **a contraction meaning you would, or you had depending on the context

**Ain't: **isn't

**Wanna: **want to

**Outta: **out of

**Bama: **Alabama

** Gonna: **going to

**Yakking (yakkin'): **talking

**Ta/tew:** to, too

**Y'all: **you all

**Inta/intew**: into

**This one is probably obvious but words like tryin' or buyin' are trying and buying respectively, anything that has an apostrophe where a g would usually be is just being said in a southern accent.**

There may be more of these as the story goes on, if so I'll add this list to the beginning of each chapter and add on as it is required, hopefully this isn't confusing.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Fast and the Furious, if only I could be so lucky

Chapter one: Juicy

Getting to Japan was no problem for Arabella Trochilidae Smithson, she had a passport and her life taught her to be more than the usual levels of frugal meaning she always managed to have couple thousand stowed away somewhere in case of a rainy day. Well life had just become a full on deluge, a torrential downpour of misfortune if you would, and as histrionic as that all sounded it served to be a fairly apt descriptor, she was only falling slightly onto her far reaching spectrum of dramatics in this soliloquy. Sean, the cousin she was in the process of tracking down to murder under the soul motive provided by his sheer and utter stupidity, always described her as having an interminable knack for being overdramatic; he claimed that she wore her heart on her sleeve and that her sensitivity would one day get her burnt. He was more right then he knew but she would always just joke back that her drama was better than his knack for trouble, further goading him with comments that were somewhere along the lines of at least she wasn't a stonehearted jerk. They were closer than cousins, more like brother and sister really and he was the only family she allowed herself to be close to anymore, but still she was going to kill him for the stunt he just pulled and a couple thousand dollars was plenty enough for a one way connecting flight from Alabama to London and then finally Tokyo to make that happen.

When she landed at Narita National airport in Japan Sean had already been there a week, plenty enough time for the little punk -which she had found herself referring to him as recently under the guide of her current livid mindset- to have gotten involved in heaps of idiotic crap; knowing him she thought it probable that he had already gotten himself embroiled in some transcontinental car smuggling ring or something of the sort. She'd went with the obvious choice and checked at his father's first, but seeing as Sean had a habit of never being where he was supposed to he wasn't there of course. Hypothetically speaking she could've just waited there, he would have to return eventually, but literally she wanted to beat some sense into him at that very second which meant going on a bit of a chase. This chase entailed traversing his favorite turf, the drag racing underground, thankfully the qualities of said underground were the same even across oceans and country lines so she knew exactly what questions to ask to which people to find what she was looking for.

As it turned out what she was looking for was a gigantic cement parking garage that seemed to go up for miles, she never recalled Sean doing a race in such a place before but when she got inside she realized that there was as perfect a place as any; the place held ample room to spread out and appreciate both the beauty of the cars themselves and what lie under there hoods. Really the whole scene seemed to be like a giant illicit car show, a couple of fights here and there, some showy revving's of the engines, the tension in the air that said someone was just waiting to succumb to the urge to challenge whatever other hothead there that looked at them the wrong way to a race for *slips. Not to be crass but it was essentially a car lover's wet dream thus she could guarantee with absolute certainty that Sean was either there in that exact moment or had been in at least one time in recent history.

She started asking around about Sean, had anyone seen him, where could she find him, and things of the sort. In an environment like this a guy like Sean wasn't too hard to miss so it wasn't long until she pieced together something about a DK -whoever that was and why they would chose to operate under a pseudonym associated with a cartoon gorilla whose favorite pastimes were throwing barrels at little Italian men and smashing things with his fists was beyond her-, the Mona Lisa -a car that was apparently the epitome of all that was good in a car from what she understood of the reverent whispers surrounding it-, and a Han. The fractured explanations she received in passing didn't make much sense but it appeared that Sean had pissed of this DK in that special way he had such talent for, they exchanged a few choice words as the angry pits of testosterone that represented the male demographic were wont to do, a challenge for a race was issued, and then the mysterious Han, the man that built the car which was seemingly god's gift to racing kind, allowed Sean to race in his car from which point DK proceeded to mop the floor with Sean who utterly destroyed the holy grail of all cars in the process.

So many questions still swirled in her mind but it seemed no answers were forthcoming, with a sigh she reluctantly prepared to make her way back to her uncles until she turned with a soft squeak when she felt an insistent taping on her shoulder. A moderately short boy that couldn't have been more than about 17 looked back at her with light brown eyes that stood out starkly above his high cheek bones. He had light brown skin, tightly wound dreads framed by a thick black headband and he stood before her with an apologetic grimace. She'd seen him earlier walking around selling miscellaneous wares from the black backpack he carried, sporting a bright smile and aiming an endless stream of persuasive conversation at his perspective consumers, "Hi I'm Twinkie," He introduced himself with that same winning grin. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you like that," He said sincerely.

Arabella cocked her head slightly to the side at the strange nickname then smiled softly at him in reassurance, "Oh that's alright, I was just a bit startled. It's my fault really for being so caught up in my own head I didn't even know you were coming. I do it all the time, space out so hard I don't even realize the whole world is passing before my eyes. Sean says I'm too vacant to be able to keep focused on my surroundings for more than ten seconds, then I call him a vacuous waste of space or use some other word he doesn't understand to make him feel like an idiot," she giggled and the boy, Twinkie, smiled at her in response. "Oh sorry, I'm rambling, I do that when I'm nervous, or around new people, or anytime really, I'm just a rambler. Sean calls it my psychobabble, wow you should probably stop me now or I'll continue right on talking till a' the seas gang dry. That's a line from this one absolutely gorgeous poem, A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns; obviously it's not about a person who can't stop talking though," she babbled on.

"Obviously," he agreed with a mockery of a serious face as he forced back his laughter.

"Yeah, it's about his love eternal for some woman and other such platitudes, but it really is quite lovely actually, Robert Burns is simply an excellent poet in my honest opinion. Poems are just beautiful don't you think? I believe so much more can be expressed through the written word then can be done with just simple speaking, I mean talking is nice and all but there is something indescribable about the beauty of emotions when they are acutely depicted in a letter or a story, they can capture moments and feelings that at times really can't be expressed properly with only our voices. Sean thinks I'm just an overly sentimental wack-a-doo but he's a jerk most the time anyway so I don't really care anyway, blood or not lord only knows how I still love the guy. Oh my, I'm still going, this might be a new record for me! Please, please, please shut me up," She was practically on her knees begging as she clasped her hands to her chest and looked up into Twinkie's eyes beseechingly.

He laughed at her for a long moment that continued until she narrowed her eyes at him threateningly, she doubted she looked very vicious with the flush of embarrassment that still stained her cheeks but it did the trick for him to start talking, "Right, about Sean, I heard you asking about him earlier…"

It was a statement but the intonation of his voice had it being posed as more of a question, "Umhmm, loathe as I am to admit relation to that bozo he's my cousin and I need to find him," she responded with a nod.

"You poor dear," he laughed at her blasé expression. "But lucky for you I'm here to help, I know exactly where he is," Twinkie announced winking secretively at her as he whispered the last part.

"Really," Arabella practically squealed in her enthusiasm.

"Yeah he's at Han's Garage," He answered.

"Han? That guy whose car he wrecked?" she asked with a worried little gulp.

He nodded, "Yup, he's paying of his debt for destroying Mona."

"H-how's he doing that," she stuttered out, scolding herself for sounding so meek and terrified. She was stronger than that now, she wasn't the fearful type.

"Oh, don't worry, Han's a good guy, it's nothing to dangerous," Twinkie assured her.

"Right," she smiled weakly at him as she tried to come back to her powerful self. "So where is this guy's garage anyway," she wondered.

"Oh I can take you there now," he answered spinning a set of car keys around on his fingers.

"Um no offence, you seem really nice and all, but we had that whole stranger danger thing in elementary school, you know with the whole no lollipops from strangers, safe word, they aren't really looking for their stray dog video lesson? I mean I thought it was all stupid at the time, lollipops are heaven sent and who wouldn't want to find a lost puppy, but anyway the whole don't get in the car with someone you don't know bit is kind of ingrained in me now."

"I dive a shiny green Volkswagen that looks like that Hulk, that's hardly a vehicle that's inconspicuous enough for a kidnapping, I think you'll be okay," he deadpanned, but a bright amused smile shown on his face.

Arabella debated her options, on the one hand he could be some kind of serial killer, lock you in the basement as a slave until he decides to harvest your organs type of nut, on the other he really didn't seem like the type and she desperately needed to find Sean. She squinted her eyes at him a bit as she thought, sizing him up. "Fine," she finally agreed with next to no adverse ruminations left lingering, "but if I think for one second that anything suspicious or even remotely fishy is going on then I'll be sure to run your pretty little Hulk on wheels off the road," she smiled at him sweetly blinking her wide eyes up at him in a show of innocence.

"Noted," he gulped. "Though I usually just call it the Hulk mobile."

"Noted," she beamed back.

~o~O~o~

The ride to Han's garage was filled with light conversation, but Arabella was grateful that, even with her babbling ways, Twinkie managed to do most of the talking as they drove. She figured out that DK actually stood for Drift King not Donkey Kong like she'd thought, she was actually a little disappointed by that, she couldn't shake images of him being this narcissistic looking man throwing around barrels of beer and breaking crap. Even if no one would actually carry around barrels of beer, that would be way to heavy and way to much effort to exert for something that came in packs of 30; though she still pictured him as being a bit of an alcoholic, the angry kind that got in fights only to break empty liquor bottles over people's heads so the image held. He also said something about the DK being some Mafioso's nephew and a part of the Yakuza himself, a fact she tried her hardest not to let terrify her. She further learned that Sean lost to him so epically because the race involved drifting, something that at the time, despite his familiarity with the drag scene back home, he hadn't ever heard of, meaning he'd been beaten from the second the word "race" left his mouth. In that moment he had never even stood a mite of chance. While Arabella may have experienced a few donuts in the fields back home and such it had nothing on what was described as happening here in the drifting capital of the world, and she knew Sean didn't even have that.

They pulled up after about five minutes of driving to see what appeared to be a party going on in the multicar luxury garage, scantily clad women strutted about everywhere and the building was filled as well as surrounded with cars that were true works of mechanical artwork. "Is it always this busy here," Arabella wondered aloud.

"Only when Han invites his girls, he's a bit of a man whore so there's a lot of them," Twinkie answered.

"Umhm," she hummed noncommittally, "aren't you his friend?"

"Yeah why," Twinkie asked, slight confusion showing in his countenance.

"Well you just called him a man whore," she prodded with some befuddlement of her own.

"Oh, Han knows he's a slut, so he just owns it," Twinkie explained with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

"Right," she intoned with an indifferent shrug, she didn't know the guy and even if she did his philandering ways weren't of any consequence to her either way. "Now please lead the way to my idiot cousin. Oh, and thanks for the ride."

"No problem, right this way my lady," she cocked her head and raised her brows a little at being addressed as such but followed nonetheless. It didn't take long to spot her muscled, male American cousin through the slew of practically naked women and she strode over to him with purposeful steps, parting the crowd like Moses did the Red Sea in her righteous fury. As she reached a closer distance to him she broke into a run to spring at his back.

"Yew absolute numbskull," she seethed as she wrapped her short limbs around him and pounded away at whatever piece of him she could reach. "Of all the idiotic, dimwitted, mindless things ya've done of late this takes the cake. I come here thinking I only had to kick your stupid face in for getting in another race, over another insignificant girl mind you, and rolling your car until into an unrecognizable mess that could've **killed** ya, but no. The second my plane touches down I come to find out that ya did something even worse, and in your first night on foreign soil no less! In less than a day you manage to piss off some buff prince of the dudes by talking to his 'chick,' or whatever demeaning name they have for women here, again, you get yourself into deep water over the same stupid issues your raging testosterone always cause, again, and then some mystical car guru lends you his eighth wonder of the world or something and you wreck that too! And that's not to mention the whole debt to Mr. Car Guru, mafia criminal racing underground thing you've got going on! What's your problem Boswell, 24 hours, yew can't go 24 hours without getting yourself in too deep; I knew making yew wait a week to have some form of positive influence in your life was asking too much but one day Sean? That's a new record even for you! And it was all over some random girl like always. God help me, you're the epitome of idiocy Sean, if you are that hard up just get a fake ID and go to the bars to get some, you're not completely unfortunate looking even if you are a Neanderthal so I'm sure someone would be willing to take you into a club closet and show you a good time. Or you could just beat it out like the rest of the male population does when they're feeling particularly desperate. Either way stop posturing for girls that are already otherwise entangled, no one likes that, it makes you look like a jerk." She chastised, "It's time to start thinking with your upstairs brain now Sean, you're a big kid now so it's best yew get out of your Pampers."

"Pip," was all he managed to mutter in his surprise.

"Her name is Pip," the tall man that had been standing with Sean when she attacked asked with minor skepticism in his voice. He'd just been standing there watching her wail away at her cousin, munching away on whatever that snack he carried around in his bag was, like they were some great comedic flick he was attending. He certainly thought they were an amusing scene if his mirthful tone of voice was anything to go bye. The man was of Asian descent and he had to stand a solid six feet tall, lithe muscles rippled in his arms and silky black locks of delightfully and probably purposefully mussed up hair fell to his shoulders giving him that sought after rugged look. His eyes were a coffee brown hue that sparkled with mischief, and he had dimples that could in all likelihood make mother Teresa swoon and swear off life in the nunnery. In simple words he was the possibly most gorgeous man Arabella had ever seen in her life, that plus his powerful, dangerous, yet playful aura definitely explained the three women who had to be models that stood attached to his biceps.

She tried not to blush as she took him all in but the smirk on his face told her that she did anyhow. Jumping as gracefully as she could with all her patented clumsiness down from Sean's back she gazed up into the man's eyes, he made her five-foot-tall stature feel like even less than it already was with his tall physique and huge atmospheric presence. "No, that's just a silly nickname my clown of a cousin gave me," she answered motioning over her shoulder at Sean. "It's short for pipsqueak because, you know," she explained gesturing to her teeny height. "My name is actually Arabella, but no one calls me that unless they want a black eye. I hate it, it's just so pompous sounding, like something an uber rich business mogul's trust fund baby would be called and that is** not** me," she emphasized. "No one calls me Bella either because it reminds me of Twilight and the whole sparkly vampire thing really freaks me out. Plus, that girl is just so needy, and whinny, and 'oh woe is me save me darling Edward, mine sparkly teen vampire, save me from this papercut I hath procurethed on my finger.' I don't need some white knight, love-struck rescuer to protect me from falling over a pebble even if I do trip on them all the time. Wow, sorry, all that was totally unnecessary, I normally just go by Ara."

She probably would've continued her pointless chatter if she hadn't heard Twinkie mutter, "Ara, so that's her name."

"Oh my Twinkie, I'm so sorry, she gasped. "You took me all the way here to find Sean and I didn't even tell you my name, that's so inconsiderate! I'm awful. I-"

"Whoa hold up girl, quit trippin' you know you can call me Twink. Plus, you're far from awful, I think the way you were just pounding on Sean's back made us all fall in love with you at least a little so don't worry, you were just caught up in your nervous rambling," he appeased with a teasing grin.

"Ah, the psychobabble," Sean nods knowingly.

"Shut up, it's not that bad," She glared at Sean.

"It is," he argued with a smirk.

"'Sorry I ramble when I'm nervous, or around new people, or anytime really, I'm just a rambler. You should probably stop me or I'll just keep going until a' the seas gang dry, that's a line from this gorgeous poem by Robert Burn's called A Red, Red Rose. Have you ever heard it? I mean Obviously it's not about a girl who can't stop talking but It is about eternal love and such so it's really very lovely,'" he mimicked her with a smirk.

"Oh man, she really got goin' didn't she?" Sean snorted.

"Yup," Twinkie confirmed, popping the 'p.'

"Did she go inta her whole spiel about literature bein' a 'window into one's soul,'" Sean asked with overly dramatized hand motions, clutching at his heart like a swooning Shakespearean romance heroine.

"Pretty much," Twinkie nodded.

"Hey," Ara stomped her foot with a pout that she would've denied wearing, "stop it I'm really not that bad," she protested. "Twink I can hold a normal conversation I swear," she claimed as she turned to him with wide eyes that pleaded with him to believe her.

"I'm sure you can," Twinkie began, but Sean seemed to have really looked at her for the first time that night and cut him off.

"Pip, what're yew wearin'," he fumed through clenched teeth.

"Um, clothes," she replied with faux innocence.

"No Pip, those are sewin' scraps," he bit out. Ara looked down at her outfit, a light wash jean miniskirt with frayed rips along the front of her thighs and pockets, a loose grey crop top sporting a vintage looking white sunshine, complete with a smiling face that read, 'here comes the sun,' in flowy cursive lettering and shrugged. She'd left her wild chocolate brown curls hanging free down her back and had housed her feet in her typical Black vans. Overall the look was a bit more revealing then she usually went for, but she wore both items he was deriding fairly regularly, just with a more modest top or bottom respectively. Still he was being obnoxious so she frowned at him.

"Well I wouldn't've had to wear 'sewing scraps,' as you so eloquently put it, if you had just been where you belong. I had to wonder around Tokyo looking and asking about where I could find the fastest cars around because I knew wherever they were was where you'd be, and I couldn't exactly show up in that big old drifting garage in my Sunday school clothes now could I," she rolled her eyes at him in annoyance.

"Yew went there by yourself," he growled, aiming a harsh stare at her.

"Um yes, I just said that," she answered with a challenge in her voice and both hands on her hips.

"Pip I know you're naïve, but this a whole new level of fuckin' stupidity. Yew know better than to go wonderin' around an unfamiliar place, a foreign country no less, on your own. And lookin' for the drag racin' circuit, by yourself, dressed like that? Yew know what kind of creeps' hangout there, yew know can't do that," he scolded as if talking to a hardheaded three-year-old child.

She bit into her lower lip hard to prevent screaming out in her anger, "I'm far from stupid yew walkin' talkin' phallic muscle, and obviously I can because I just did. I can take care of myself Sean, you know I can, I always have."

"If you could take care of yourself you wouldn't be acting so dumb," she wanted to smack his stupid angry face off. "Han, I need someone ta get her a jacket and some sweatpants please," he requested, turning to the gorgeous man she'd been ogling moments before.

Han simply nodded, disappearing into a back room which Ara assumed to be his own as she continued to glare fiercely at her cousin. He returned with a pair of light grey sweats and a black jacket which she grudgingly took from his arms with a murmured thanks as she turned her harsh stare away from Sean. "So you're Han," she muttered, glancing up at him shortly.

He nodded simply and backed away. "I probably should've guessed that one huh," she mumbles to herself. "A little on the dangerous side, calm and knowing air, everyone seems to defer to him, that definitely screams car guru," she supported her conclusion and heard a light, deep, throaty chuckle come from Hans direction but kept staring up at the celling in thought despite it.

"Just change already," Sean demands.

She looks down at the clothes in her hands, "Men's sweatpants?" She questioned, canting her head at Han, "Are these yours?"

"They are," he shrugged.

Ara turned to her cousin, "Sean I don't think these will work, I'd have to roll them about thirty seven times to get them to stay up, Han is huge," she exclaimed but then blushed as she thought over what she'd said. "Does that make it sound like I'm calling Han fat or something," she grimaced, "because I'm not." She turned to the man in question with a flush high and bright on her cheeks, "you're not," she assured. "You're just, um, very tall and male in comparison to me who is very short and not male, those differences don't make for suitable clothes sharing opportunities. I mean imagine trying to put on my skirt, you probably wouldn't be able to get it very far past your ankles! Well maybe you could it has to be stretchy to fit my butt," she mused. "God, I hate clothes shopping! Do you know how hard it is for a girl to find something that isn't either too big in the waist or too small in the bum? Life's a struggle and guys have it easy. Anyway, I'm not calling you fat Han, it appears that you actually have a very nice body and I would love to look at you closer, possibly while you're without a shirt." She gasped and looked away from him as a blush rose again across her cheeks, "Oh Lord Jesus help me for I know not what I say. My lips are moving and words are coming out but I do not wish to hear them. Seal this mouth oh Lord lest it be speaking of your good work." She clutched at her to heart as she gave her dramatized prayer. "Though Han's body is definitely some of your best work," that murmured after thought had her throwing back her head to scream at the celling. "Someone please kill me now. Please just put me out of my misery, I can't live with this shame."

"Cut the theatrics and get dressed Arabella," Sean snarled.

"Don't call me Arabella, and quit your yowlin', ya ain't a dog," she derided, directing him a deep and vicious frown. "Don't you have anything else," she turns to Han pleadingly.

"Well one of the girls left a pair of yoga pants lying around a while back, but I seriously doubt Sean here wants you walking around with Juicy stamped across your ass, no matter how apt a descriptor the word may be," Han informs her with a smirk. She was getting a bit tired of being smirked at that day, but at least his smirk was sexy, she thought.

Sean glares at him a little as if to say, _you're dam right I don't want that, and don't you dare call my cousins ass juicy again or I'll end you, _but Han just holds his hands up in surrender. "Just get dressed now," he demands to Ara icily.

"I'd be careful how you speak Seany dear," she says with force calm and saccharin sweetness in her voice. "You know I won't wear my skirt under these," she says waving the sweatpants at him, "that would just be uncomfortable, and with the way you're talking now you'd just want me to strip down and change right here and now. I mean I'm happy to oblige and I'm sure no one here aside from you would have a problem with seeing me in my lacy black thong, but I can only change if you turn around cousin dear, there are certain things about our bodies that family just shouldn't be accustomed with," she taunted reaching for the button of her skirt.

"Yew wouldn't," he denied eyes bulging as veins throbbed along his neck and forehead.

"Wouldn't I," she disagreed, cocking her head challengingly as she started to loosen the button from its hook.

"No, you wouldn't you're far tew modest for that," he decided, meeting her stare head-on with a glower of his own.

"Generally so," she nodded her assent, "but anger makes people act out of character and right now yew have me royally pissed off." With her declaration she puts her back to him and he gasps spinning on his heel away from her when he hears the friction between her zippers teeth as she drags it down. She strips out of her skirt to reveal she really is wearing a skimpy black lace thong as she puts her feet into the pants two leg holes, she quickly yanked them up her body while avoiding everyone's glances, she'd certainly be embarrassed later but for now she had a point to make. As it turned out Han's pants really did have to be rolled down a total of what felt like 37 times to fit her small frame, though she didn't actually count. She slipped on his jacket and tapped her cousin's shoulder, "You can turn around now Sean," she tells him, trying not to sound as timid as she felt in that moment after having exposed herself to a crowded room.

"Are ya decent," he questioned bitingly, she could feel the way his tense muscles coiled in anger as she held her hand against him and rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't tell you to turn around if I wasn't Sean, that's just nasty," she replied with offhand factualness. "Practically my whole body is covered up even my hands with how long these sleeves are, do you want me to ask Han or someone to please fetch me a scarf too? Can't have my neck on display to the masses."

He finally turned to gripe at her, "You're lucky I don't make yew wear a ski mask after the shit you just pulled."

"You could try," she sang in return.

"Close the jacket," was all he said in response.

"You're ridiculous," she rolled her eyes again as she tugged up the zip.

"And you're a child," He volleyed back.

"Yes, because you're behavin' so maturely when you're throwin' your weight around and acting like yew own me," she scoffed.

"I wouldn't have to if yew would just be smart," Sean argued.

"Humph, I'm definitely the smart one between the tew of us mister I went head ta head with a big bad mafia goon over a girl," she decreed with a piercing glare.

"It wasn't really about Neela, it was about honor," he argued. "Sure, he disrespected her which was not okay, but he also disrespected me and as a man I just couldn't stand for it. Plus, in my defense I didn't know he was Yakuza at the time."

"Yes because that makes your idiocy so much better," Ara mocked with wide eyes. "Well at least you remember the girls name this time, testosterone strikes again."

"It wasn't about her," he whined, moping as he glared at the ground like it had caused world hunger.

"Well if you're such a man stop pouting like a child," she chided.

"Whatever," he scowled petulantly.

"Cut it out Sean, I'm taking you home," Ara claimed yanking on his arm.

"Your takin' me home," he questioned, raising a brow at her. "How?"

"You have two feet, ever hear of walking? I know where we are and Han's isn't far from your fathers," she explained sardonically.

"He's not a father, he's a sperm donner," Ara nodded firmly in agreement with his statement. "Plus I have a car."

"You have a car? How, I doubt your mom and the sperm donner want you anywhere within a five-mile radius of any vehicle," She inquired with genuine curiosity.

"Han gave it ta me," Sean answered.

"Oh so you meant to say Han lent you one of his fancy, froufrou race cars so you could ride around in style while you're with him. I bet Lieutenant Boswell loves that," she scorned.

"It's Major Boswell actually," he corrected.

"Either way I'd bet my bottom dollar he disapproves, which means you'd have to leave the car here so he doesn't see it, ergo you were stuck walking either way so why even bring it up?" The sideways tilt to her head and challenge shining in her deep brown eyes almost dared him to dispute her logic.

"Ergo, really Pip," he groaned in response.

"Hey, don't go all pouty because I'm smarter then you, it means I'm a more articulate speaker get over it," she smiled winningly.

"I'm not stupid Pip," he frowned. "And you're not articulate, you babble."

"Yes, but I babble articulately," she beamed.

"That doesn't even make sense," Sean mumbled under his breath.

"And of course you're not stupid," she continued as if she hadn't heard him, "you just have intermittent moments of dimwittedness."

"So, ya don't think I'm a hopeless idiot," he enquired gently, almost like he was afraid of the answer; it was a quick change of pace from their joking banter, but Ara took the heartfelt question in stride.

"You know I don't," she murmured sincerely. "Even if you do have your moments when you really are a major dummy you're my dummy and you always the right thing in the end."

"Aww shucks Pip, that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," He joked trying to get the seriousness out of the air.

"No, it's not you bumpkin, jeez Sean you make it seem like I'm some sort of dragon lady," she sniffled.

He narrowed his eyes at her as she put on a front of verging tears, "You're tryin' ta guilt me into a hug aren't yew," he asked suspiciously.

"That depends, is it working," she sniffed.

"Maybe a little," He grudgingly admitted.

That's all it took for Arabella to once again launch herself at her cousin, this time in a joyful embrace where she ruffled his hair as she called him her, "Sweet Seany-weany bumpkin boy."

"You're from the same part of Alabama that I am," he protested as she jostled him.

"Yeah but I don't talk like it," she argued.

"Yew use a few of the phrases and such. Plus, ya have the tiniest bit of a drawl sometimes Pip. It's even pretty heavy when you're angry, you sounded like you came straight outta the brambles a minute ago." he declared before pausing to add in afterthought, "Plus, yew really play it up when you're pulled over by the cops."

"Well no one wants to give a sweet southern girl a ticket, even if she was doing 90 in a 35. 'I'm sorry officer my Grandma is very sick and I'm just tryin' to get to the hospital and see her while I still can.'" She blinked up at him innocently as she pantomimed wiping away tears, reenacting the night she was referring to.

"I still can't believe ya got away with that one pip, yew don't even have any Grandparents and the nearest hospital was 5 miles in the opposite direction," he laughed.

"I'm just a good sweet talker," she whispered with a conspiratorial wink like it was all some big secret. "Besides the officer didn't know my grandparental status and just because that hospital was closest to us doesn't necessarily mean it was the one looking after my good ole imaginary Nans."

Sean wasn't the only one who laughed, "Seriously though Pip, where are yew stayin'? I'll walk you there first then take myself home. I don't want you walking alone on your way back," He said resolutely.

"Well you see the thing is," she began, pulling at the long sleeves of Han's Jacket a bit as she nibbled on her lip and gazed softly at the floor.

"Yes…" Sean prompted as she continued to fiddle in silence.

Her head suddenly shot up "can we talk about this somewhere else," she requested, swiveling her head to take in all the people surrounding them; she'd almost forgotten they were there.

"Pip, this shy, mysterious shit isn't like you, tell me what the fuck is going on right now," He demanded with earnest fervor.

"But Sean…" she started trying and failing to keep the begging tone from her voice.

"No, now Pip," he commanded. "These are my friends, so they'll probably pick up on whatever's goin' on sooner rather than later so yew might as well just spit it out."

"All these woman are your **friends**," Ara quizzed disbelievingly.

"It doesn't matter Ara, just start talkin'," he sighed impatiently.

"You're not my boss Sean," she glowered.

"Pip," his voice held a distinguishable warning as he tapered his gaze at her.

"Fine," she forced down the urge to pout, but she guessed that there was probably a semblance of one on her face anyway. "Well you see I'm here on a school Visa, I applied for this year long writing program at the University of Tokyo and got in somehow; it's no too far your school really. Of course, I wasn't going to accept at first, I mean being in Tokyo while Aunt Tammy had to deal with you all alone? No way, I knew she'd go crazy on her own," She exclaimed waving her hands wildly in the air for emphasis. "At least in Bama I was never more than a phone call and a few hour's drive away, no matter where you got yourself kicked off to when you started were acting like your fool self. Anyway, then Aunt Tammy calls me all franticly crying saying you were in this huge race turned accident and had caused a **lot** of monetary damages to private property. You'd put yourself in trouble to the point of her having to send you to your father in Tokyo over the only slightly less appealing option you were given of juvenile detention; hearing that I decided to change my mind about the whole writing thing. You know I'm still pissed at ya for not telling me about that yourself Sean," she hissed the last part through clench teeth as Sean gulped.

"Right, but what does any of that have ta do with where you're stayin'," Sean inquired quickly, wanting to move on from the subject of her rage.

"Jeez Sean, I'm getting there calm down. I know for a fact that your momma taught you the virtue of patience, so you best remember it now because she gave me the authority to slap you silly a long time ago," she warned.

"You're five feet tall and your slaps feel like butterfly kisses Pip, I'm hardly intimidated," he said blandly. "Plus, you're tew much of bleeding heart to do anythin' but pull your punches."

"I decked Billy Parker didn't I," she disputed.

"Yes, but that was right after he pushed me down the steps in fifth grade," he reasoned. "Ya'd do anything to protect your family or friends but you're hardly the type to get mad enough on your own behalf to actually fight back. Yew know ya really need to work on that Pip, it's not good to let people walk on ya."

"Shut up Sean, I know how ta stand up for myself," she seethed with a little growl.

"No yew know how to stand up for others there's a difference," Sean maintained calmly.

"Drop it Sean," she grit out through her clenched jaw, "this isn't the time or place; actually there is no time or place for this because it isn't up for discussion. You were so impatient to know where I'm staying so let's get on with it already," she breathed heavily in an effort to calm herself down. "So, Aunt Tammy told me you were coming here, and I saw that spot in the program I got into at the college as the perfect opportunity to come here and keep an eye on you. I knew Sargent Sperm Bank wasn't going to cut it and low and behold I was right, as always."

"Ya know we're gonna discuss the fact that ya were initially turning that spot down just so ya'd be able ta babysit me either way later right," he said with a serious look.

"No, we aren't," she denied with a smile that was sickeningly sweet, "that is also a subject not up for discussion. Now stop interrupting me, you're the one who was demanding all this information *tout de sweet."

"Pip yew hated French class," he rolled his eyes.

"Shut up Boswell, do you want to hear the story or not," he went silent and she waited a few seconds for him to nod his consent. "That's what I thought," she beamed in triumph. "Now as I was saying, General Deadbeat wasn't going to do the trick so I called the Director of the Lit department to beg her to let me into the program under late acceptance. Luckily she'd read my portfolio herself and was in love with it for whatever reason-"

"That reason your being an amazing writer," Sean piped in though she continued to speak as if he hadn't.

"-So she made an exception when she saw that one of the other students had dropped out last minute. All the other Students in the program are in college already so they stay in the dorms, the whole thing is really more of an extended workshop, and it's only during the weekend so, considering the fact that I'm still a high school senior, I have to stay off campus and attend whatever local institute I'm districted for as well. Since I gave my acceptance late there were no host families available to house me, so I had to tell the university that I would be staying with my uncle who was a naval officer stationed here, they think I'm living under his address right now."

"But you're not," Sean observed with a question in his eyes.

"Right I'm not, so the plan is to find some sleazy cheap motel to stay in with money I have left from the plane ticket over here. Then I'll have to find some way to get a job in this country, so I can pay for the rest of however much time I have to stay here watching out for you and your troublesome ways," she explained, flinching with a grimace in anticipation of the back lash.

Sean was surprisingly even keeled as he said, "yeah, yew know that ain't gonna happen."

"Yup definitely not," Twinkie jumped in with his agreeance from the sidelines.

Ara jumped, she'd hardly even remembered the crowd that circled them as she had gotten into things with her cousin, "but…" she began to protest.

"No," Sean shot her down with finality, "ya literally just said yew would stay in a sleazy motel for a year to babysit me in Japan. I know ya know how absolutely insane that sounds, and I know ya know exactly what sleazy entails when it comes ta those motel rooms, it's not happenin' Pip."

"I'm not going back," she glared defiantly. "It's not like I have a home I can return to."

"I know, I know you're alone there Pip. Even if you did have someone waiting for ya, yew shouldn't go back anyway. Yew deserve to be a part of whatever the heck that program is, yew should've been here in the first place, but I can't let ya stay in some crime rife part of town alone and just wait for something bad to happen to yew. Sleazy places aren't somewhere ya willingly stay Pip. Besides, the university already has my father's address marked as your residence, that means you'll be goin' to school with me at Asuka Metropolitan High. It won't be long until the Yakuza know your association to me and I'm bound to do something else to piss the DK off sooner rather than later, so I'd rather keep you close so he can't retaliate on you."

"Don't be dramatic Sean," Ara rolled her eyes, "your little Mafia buddies probably won't even register that I exist."

"Maybe not, but either way wherever yew stay is gonna be with me," Sean declared determinedly.

"And I wouldn't be so sure of the them not noticing you thing Ara, this whole mess started with Neela, and DK is the type to wanna piss Sean off in the same way he did to him. You're the only female in Sean's life that he cares about so don't be surprised if DK or some of his crew try to bother you," Twinkie cut in.

"Oh, so you're on his side to," Ara glared a little at the boy with betrayal shining in her eyes.

He shrugged, "Sorry girl, just calling it like it is."

"Uh huh, so my big bad bumpkin cousin is going to protect me from all the slime balls of Japan and the petulant drifting Donkey Kong of the local mafia," she raised her eyebrows in askance. "Yeah, pass, I'm not some damsel in distress Sean, nothing's going to happen and even if it did I handle my own trouble as it comes along."

"Don't care what ya say Pip, you're comin' with me and we're gonna ask the Major about yew stayin' a while, then if he says no we'll figure somethin' else out together," Sean stated calmly.

"Just listen to the bumpkin princess," Twinkie nodded.

"Hey only a fellow bumpkin can call someone on their bumpkinish ways, that doesn't include you Twink so watch it or that's cause for retaliation, and trust me southern justice is not something you wanna experience doll," Ara warned.

"Aww, did ya just admit to your bumpkinhood Pippers? I never thought I'd see the day," Sean said wiping at faux tears of joy.

"Well technically by my rules of the requirements to call someone a bumpkin I've been admitting to my bumpkindom every time I call you one," she acknowledged. "But after all I **am** just a Bama Baby, a simple belle out on this unfamiliar terrain with all these city folk, bravin' this harsh new world with a warm country smile and southern hospitality," she crooned with an overdramatized mimicry of her home towns accent.

Sean snorted, "and ain't I just so proud of ya for it."

"Oh, I'm sure ya are honey, but I still didn't forget what we was yakkin' about so quit trying to distract me. I ain't letting you run my life," she continued in her overdone accent as she smiled at him demurely.

"I don't wanna run your life Ara, I just wanna keep ya safe," he pleaded.

She looked at him with narrowed eyes for a while but eventually conceded, "Fine I'll stay with you while we're in Tokyo, but that's it. I draw the line at all that overprotective bodyguard crap you like to pull, you're not my father, I'm not a child, and I have nothing to fear or be guarded from. I expected you to stay outside a ten-mile radius of my business as any piece of you that gets into that business will be promptly cut off, remember who babysits who in this relationship."

"Very threatenin', Pip, I'm horrified," He deadpanned.

"I was serious," she protested.

"uh huh so was I," he teased

"Good," she emoted with a dazzling smile.

Sean ruffled her hair as he roved his eyes heavenward in exasperation, "You're a mess Pip," he said fondly as she jabbed his arm in retaliation. "Let's get out of here," he directed as he nodded his farewell to Han and Twink.

"Sure," Ara eagerly approved looking over her shoulder to call, "Bye Twink, bye Han, uh…" She paused momentarily as she wracked her brain for a way to address the others in the room, "bye pretty model ladies," she finally settled on then scolded herself for sounding like a child as the guys laughed at her expense.

"They're too much," Twinkie chuckled to Han as the duo walked away, "something tells me they're both going to need to be babysat."

"Yeah, and you're too much of a kid to do it yourself so that means I'll be stuck on infant duty," Han replied as his eyes settled on the new girl, Arabella's retreating form. Han was a very observant person, he sat back and watched how a person's words and actions spoke of their true self, there wasn't a nut he couldn't crack. But Ara? She was a dichotomy. Her body language, her words and her mannerisms said multiple things all at once yet nothing concrete at all, she seemed to scream pain and loss with a vengeance yet she also exuded a ceaseless bubbly optimism that could warm a room. Han didn't know where to look or what to believe but he certainly wanted to figure it out, one thing was for sure though, when that skirt came down he had all the evidence he needed to say her ass held the perfect balance between size and tightness. It was big, more than enough to hold onto, and tight to the point where it appeared to defy gravity, it was quite possibly the most amazing rear-end he'd ever bared witness to. Her ass was most decidedly Juicy.

**AN: **Thanks for making it through to the end, I hope the accented language didn't confuse you any. Mainly Sean will be speaking in it from now on, although Ara is from Alabama as well she really doesn't have much of a discernible accent most of the time for reasons that'll be explained later. If you a reader of my other fic don't worry I'll continue to work on it and will update soon, but I recently felt inspired to write this and couldn't silence my muse. Let's face it Han's pretty inspirational. Love you all lots, have awesome days!

Love,

~3lw

P.s. the an * Asterix was placed in front of racing for slips which means pink slips or car ownership and tout de suite which translates from French to right away or immediately… just in case you didn't know ;)


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